


Just Might Change Your Life

by Setkia



Series: it's okay to not be okay [4]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Couples Who Hide Dead Bodies Together Stay Together, Dorky!Peter, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Unnamed Character Death Who Doesn't Matter At All, Peter Does Photography, Wade Kills People, awkward!peter, insecure!wade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 15:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setkia/pseuds/Setkia
Summary: “So I guess we’re hiding a dead body together …”“Take me out a date first, why don't you?” Deadpool chuckles.“Okay.”





	Just Might Change Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I write Deadpool, I think I get better at it. This story got out of control, and then BAM, dead body. If you didn't know, I'm posting these stories in chronological order in a multi chapter fic called "it's okay to not be okay", and it'll have 20 chapters. I'll still be posting stuff in this series though if you prefer to read them as one-shots. And YES, at this point basically all stories are named after songs.

_You're on the edge now take one step_  
_And you just might find you'll fly_  
_You never know what will happen next_  
_Don't be afraid to let go this time  
_ _It just might change your life_

—Sidewalk Prophets, _J[Just Might Change Your Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OiBKlU6yzIM)_

  
_You can do this. You’re Spider-fucking-Man, you swing from webs and take down bad guys with guns and make it home in time for dinner. Asking Wade Wilson out on a date is the least scary thing you’ll do today._

It’s a pathetic pep talk, and it’ll probably all be for naught. Peter’s been trying to psych himself up to ask the merc out for the last week, but something always goes wrong. It’s not procrastination, he just wants to get it over with, find his answer and be done with it, but the universe is conspiring against him to draw this out as long as possible.

To be fair, there are a certain set of circumstances which have to be met in order for him to even ask out Wade.

One: he has to see the mutant in the first place, which doesn’t _sound_ that bad, but since he’s still nervous about investing himself into a relationship where he doesn’t know if Wade would like the man _behind_ the mask, he has to be out of uniform when he meets him. Which means Peter can’t search him out, because Wade still doesn’t know that Peter _is_ Spider-Man, and all of their meet-ups happen at Stark Industries, with Wade in a less-than-perfect state. Unless while walking home Deadpool just happens to _fall from the sky_ , Peter doesn’t know how he’s supposed to ask the man out without the aid of his alter-ego.

Two: Peter has to be feeling confident that day. This doesn’t happen often, because as much as he’s been giving himself pep-talks, they don’t always do him much good. He’ll be confident at 2 PM, but Deadpool will come crashing through the window at 4, and by then it’s gone.

Three: Deadpool can’t be _too_ injured, or else Peter may puke. Peter can only handle so many levels of gore before his stomach decides to drop out. On the off chance that he’s feeling confident and Deadpool visits, chances are the merc is missing half of his body and Peter’s forced to stare as the tissue starts to mend itself. Regenerating is not like how the Doctors do it, it’s pretty painful and gory to watch. He doubts it’s the perfect setting for a love confession. Not that he’s in love, because he’s a nineteen year old kid who barely understands _Love, Actually,_ and still makes _Doctor Who_ references like that’s a cool thing. What does he know about love?

With all three parameters in place, Peter’s ready to “just do it”, like Deadpool told him to, but the trifecta just never seems to happen.

Requirement number two is hard to come by because Peter can’t even _pretend_ to know what Wade’s reaction to his request would be. He can see the man being nice in letting him down, telling him that he just doesn’t go for his type, but he could equally see him laughing in his face, or offering a quick fuck, something Peter’s considered, but decided against.

Maybe all these requirements are stupid and he _is_ procrastinating. Being a superhero is hard enough without bringing in the normal stuff like _dating_ into the mix., though he can’t imagine _not_ being a hero. He doubts he’d get to know Wade as well as he does without the mask.

Peter’s setting up his camera in Central Park when he hears “Slow the fuck down! You’d think 3 bullets to the leg would stop you, but oh no, you’re a springy one, aren’t ya?”

He knows that voice.

Turning towards the noise, he sees Deadpool chasing after a man who is visibly limping, though he has to say Wade’s right, he is quite springy as he leaves a trail of blood behind him with each desperate gait.

_BANG!_

The other leg is shot and the man wobbles, nearly collapsing.

_BANG!_

Another bullet and the man is down, Deadpool stopping over his body with his hands on his hips. As an outsider looking in, Peter wonders if he looks that stupid when he’s running around in spandex in a crowded area. He’s usually so focused on his adrenaline rush and making sure to catch the bad guy that he never thinks about what he looks like to other people. Deadpool does look rather ridiculous.

“You’re a little motherfucker, aren’t ya, you bastard?” Deadpool asks, leaning closer to the man. “Don’t know what’s so special about you, little piece of shit, but one more bullet and Daddy’s gonna be a whole lot richer.”

Peter knows this is what Wade does. He’s just never _seen_ it like this before, up close and personal, without his suit, without any adrenaline clouding his judgement. _This_ is what makes him dangerous, he realizes. The man is begging for mercy and Wade is cackling, humming a little song as he presses his gun to the man’s temple and chides him for making a mess of such a nice park, oh look, he’s scaring the civilians.

Peter bites his lip.

He’s liked men before, Deadpool is not the first, though he’s the first he’s ever liked and wanted to _do_ something about. He’s also liked dangerous women before, but Deadpool is in a whole different category.

He can’t let him kill like this, not in broad daylight, not while there are children around. This may be what Wade does, this may be Wade’s job, but he can’t do this _here_ , not on Peter’s watch.

_Click._

“Did you just take a pic— Alliteration Ally!” Wade cries when he notices Peter. “How you doing?” The man beneath him makes a groan, but Deadpool crushes his foot against his chest. “You ain’t going nowhere, buster,” he reprimands the one in the grass. “Good day? Nice weather we’re having. Mr. Pool’s got work to do though, so mind looking away? I don’t want to offend your innocent eyes.”

“There are _children_ ,” says Peter, glancing at a family picnic. “If you have to kill him, kill him, but not _here_ , okay?”

“You look so cute when you get all Justice-y,” Wade says. “At this stage though, he’ll probably bleed out.” He digs his foot into the man’s chest some more and there’s a hitch of breath, before it’s gone. Before _he’s_ gone. “You gonna help me get rid of the body?”

Peter wrinkles his nose. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Deadpool blinks. “You always have a choice.”

Peter gets the feeling they’re not talking about the body anymore.

“Right. Erm …” _Great, now your hands are all sweaty, great fucking go, idiot._ Peter gestures to the dead body. “So I guess we’re hiding a dead body together …”

“Take me out a date first, why don't you?” Deadpool chuckles.

“Okay.”

_Shit shit shit that is not what I meant to say._

“I meant …” _Fuck it. Be like Nike and just do it._ “Yeah, that’s what I meant. Do you wanna go out some time?”

Wade is in the middle of trying to lift the rather large, dead man’s body up, when he drops it at Peter’s words. On his foot.’

“Mother— _dearest_ ,” says Wade catching sight of a little girl and her mother walking a dog. “Mother Theresa, nature is beautiful!” Leaning against the body like this is some _Weekend At Bernie’s_ shit, he starts to play with the limp arms as if the horrified mother doesn’t see his two guns and katanas, not to mention the bullet holes in Mr. Bleda. The pair walk faster as Peter takes his camera bag and tries not to gag at the blood.

“C’mon, let’s just get this guy in here.” He knows his voice sounds stiff, it’s what happens when there’s so much _blood_ , like they’re painting the grass red.

Deadpool follows his lead, stuffing the man into the bag a bit too violently. The man’s already dead, he shouldn’t have to suffer anymore. Peter tries not to think about how he’s going to explain this to Aunt May, or what he’s going to have to do in order to get rid of the blood stains. This is why he wears red.

The two of them leave Central Park in the most inconspicuous way they can, considering they have a dead body in Peter’s camera bag, with his stuff in Deadpool’s arms, with the tripod awkwardly positioned over his shoulder.

“You sure you don’t want me to carry that?”

“It’s fine.” Peter is stronger than he looks, otherwise he can’t be Spider-Man. But wait. Maybe he should let Deadpool help, otherwise it’s a bit weird for a nerd like him to be carrying the weight of a fully grown man. “Unless you want to help. I mean, I’m not like, pathetic and need someone to help me or anything but I do need to use my back for other things and since you _are_ the one with the healing factor maybe it’d be better if you— just take the bag.”

They swap objects and Peter feels comfort in knowing that his camera won’t be accidentally damaged by Wade’s well-meaning, but indelicate hands.

“So, are we going to throw it in the river or something?”

“Nah, I’m thinking incinerate it.”

“Won’t someone ask about the smell?”

“Do you think an ordinary civilian can identify the scent of burning flesh?”

“Touché.”

The two of them walk in silence a bit longer.

“So what are we doing to do with it?” asks Peter finally.

“It’s not what _we’re_ going to do with it, it’s what _I_ ’ll do with it, and I’ll figure something out. I always do. Maybe I’ll make it look like a normal homicide.”

“With that many bullet holes?”

“Good point. I could always visit Dr. Lector, lend him a hand. To eat. That was a terrible joke. Okay, moving on, why are you still here?”

“Because the body’s in my camera bag?” Peter points out. “I kind of can’t just carry this. I have a set up.” He rolls his eyes. “Besides, can’t I watch a hero do hero shit?”

“You’re a civilian,” Deadpool says and Peter knows he shouldn’t laugh, but he does anyway because Wade is trying to be “responsible”, and is using fancy language, but he’s literally talking to Spider-Man right now, not that he knows it. “You shouldn’t get mixed up in … _this_.”

“What if I want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Get mixed up in _this_ ,” says Peter, gesturing to the air. “I mean, considering I’m in who knows where in New York City with a dead body in my birthday present from last year, I’d say I’m pretty invested in this. Do you think I hide dead bodies with just _anybody_?”

Wade scratches his head, and cranes his neck. Though his eye holes are essentially just white, Peter can still see the battle behind them.

Maybe Wade isn’t interested in geeky Peter Parker. Maybe the problem is that even though Deadpool can go for anyone, he just doesn’t want Peter. Peter can live with that. He has to. And it’s a good thing he’s realized this before he got too infested like an idiot and imagined introducing him to Aunt May and coming up with five different plausible reasons for his appearance. Yeah, good thing he didn’t do that.

“Never mind—”

“I’m not …” Wade’s quiet, the self-assuredness of his voice is nowhere to be found as he awkwardly shuffles his feet in the cement, like he’s trying to dig himself an escape. “I’m not _good_ for people. Anyone really. I’d be a pretty sucky boyfriend. I mean, in the bad way. And well, the good way too. But like, mostly the bad.”

Peter laughs. “No harm in trying, is there?”

“I don’t … I don’t know.” And he really does sound like he has no idea. He twiddles his thumbs, like he’s thirteen and unsure what to do with a paperclip, as if he’s not sure if he wants to attach papers, or pick a lock. “Can I … can I get back to you on that?”

Peter takes Wade’s arm, without question, and uncaps a pen he stole from the lab. Stark Industries makes really good quality pens, okay? “I’m gonna write my number on you, so you don’t lose it, okay?”

“I erm, I don’t have a phone,” Wade admits sheepishly. “It kind of got … busted.”

Peter remembers. “Well, I’m sure you can get a new one. Would you rather we meet up sometime at my work to give me your answer?” He’s willing to make this work, he’ll do whatever it takes to get a solid answer out of Wade, because he _needs to know if this can be something_.

“Yeah … okay.”

Peter smiles.

  
Wade drops by Stark Industries more often, but he doesn’t give him an answer. Peter doesn’t press him for one, but he flirts a bit more. Or tries to. He’s kind of new at this whole trying to seduce a red and black spandex wearing, katana-wielding gunslinger thing.

Seduction, at least in Peter Parker’s case, means using terrible pick-up lines that he’s sure even Deadpool wouldn’t try, trying to wink excessively, and making way too many _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ references that can be considered cute. Wade is responsive, as if Wade’s ever _not_ responsive, and then one day while Peter’s trying to get the merc to sit still because he moves like he’s a three year old being strapped to an electric chair when you try and put polysporin on a wound, he just does it, like in Nike.

“Usually I wait till date three before I touch someone’s legs like this,” Peter remarks as he spreads the ointment around the hole in Deadpool’s costume which is the stupidest thing on Earth, but it’s the only way the merc lets him take care of him, even remotely. Just because he heals, he seems to think tending to his wounds like a normal person is totally pointless.

“We can go dutch at a Mexican place I know down on 5th for the first, if you want. I’m classy like that, and forward-thinking.”

Peter scoffs. “First what?”

“Date.”

He squeezes way too much out of the tube then, and Wade laughs.

“Don’t lube me up till at least date four. But if you ask nicely, I may be persuaded by date two.”

Peter grabs a towel and begins to wipe off the excess oil. Tony is going to kill him if he wastes resources. “I uh … what?”

“If the offer’s still on the table, that is.” There’s something different about his voice.

_Oh my God._

“Are you nervous?”

“What? Me?” Deadpool rolls his white, pupil-less eyes. “As if!”

“You are!”

“I’ll have you know I haven’t had to do anything like this for like, the past decade, so excuse me for being a bit rusty,” Wade snaps. “If you reject me too meanly, I’ll break those pretty little glasses of yours, you little shit head.”

Peter laughs, and he’s not sure if it’s because Wade’s being his usual, hilarious self, or if it’s to get rid of the nerves. Probably both. “Oh, not my glasses!”

“I’m sure you’d look fly as hell with contacts,” Wade assures him. “Scratch that. Keep the glasses. Take them off, you’ll be like Clark Kent. Wait, wrong universe. Fuck, I’m a traitor. Though it serves DC right for that CGI piece of crap they put on my face …”

Sometimes Wade talks and Peter doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s saying, but it doesn’t matter. He likes the way the mutant’s voice sounds, animated and lively, and always so fucking excited, like every story is the best thing since sliced bread.

“So is this your way of saying you’d be onboard with dating me?”

Wade kicks his feet back and lays on the medical table. Tony’s going to get on his ass about this again, he just knows it. It’ll be worth it though. “So? On the table? Off the table?”

“What about against the wall?”

Wade’s mouth opens into a perfect O, and he covers it with his gloved hands. “My my, Mr. Petey Pie, you’re a dirty one, aren’t you? Will you still respect me in the morning?” demands the now-Southern sounding belle, with a dramatic flair that is unmatched.

“Question is, will you respect _me_?”

Wade laughs. “See, this is what I like about you, Petey. You bite as much as you bark. And I bite too. Only if you say please, though.”

The university student laughs, tossing his head back. “Alright. Wade Wilson, will you _please_ go on a date with me?”

“Not what I meant but … I’ll see what I can do.”

Peter is the first to admit he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, but there are some things he _does_ know.

He loves the way Wade laughs with his whole body, and has the ability to smile even as his arm is literally falling off. The merc likes to sing really loud oldies rock into the barrel of a gun like it’s a microphone, and uses his victim’s blood as lubricant when he does the electric slide.

Peter doesn’t have to know what he’s doing, since he’s pretty sure Wade has even less of a clue than he does, which is fine. He can’t be Spider-Man without taking a few risks.

Something tells him Wade will be the best risk he ever takes.


End file.
